


Light Another Cigarette

by cuddlyharkness



Category: Biohazard - Fandom, Resident Evil
Genre: M/M, Tobacco use, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2746349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlyharkness/pseuds/cuddlyharkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wondered, why now, he decided to rumage through his memories like an old shoe-box dull of photos and trinkets...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Another Cigarette

He recalled, with great fondness, the way they would spend hours out on the front steps of the station and talk about absolutely everything and sometimes nothing. Rain or shine, the sickly sweet, choking smell of cigarettes and smoke would unfurl in the air around them, gray whisps to dance about their faces and quickly disapate as fast as they'd been exhaled.

He remembered the way it was only in these moments that his companion would let his guard down, see the man's shoulders relax into a position which so often served as his reminder that he was just as human as any, at least at the time.

He considered the way needless sunglasses would peel away, and reveal eyes as beautiful and dangerous as the fog that rolled into the city on a mid-September morning with raging stormclouds hot on their trail. He loved those eyes, before they changed...

He thought about how they would both feel comfortable around each other, a subtle glance to one another before lighters were struck up to cancer sticks for only one more moment of comfort, always ended by him leaving first to the sight of sunglasses again perching upon a pale, perfect nose. 

He wondered, why now, he decided to rumage through his memories like an old shoe-box full of photos and trinkets. He sighed as he watched the sky, dull and gray overhead, and dug in his pockets.

Three years after, and even more before that, and he still found himself striking up a match to light another cigarette, if only in memory of a man long dead to who he used to be.


End file.
